When I get asked about how I became an artist, I feel it is a polite way of asking, “What on earth has got into you?” It looks like many people are interested not so much in creativity as in how exactly it happens and what goes astray to make an ordinary man turn into an artist. With me, it all has started since childhood. My dad showed the ability to draw but unfortunately never had an opportunity to become a painter. However, he was the first to unveil to me a mysterious impact of art on our lives. The walls of my child room were garnished with two reproductions: The Ninth Wave hung above my bed and The Death of Pompeii was on the opposite wall over my brother’s bed. I have a feeling that those “encouraging” pictures could not help influencing my perception of the world. That is when and where it all started!

I grew aware of my interest to drawing at about six when I once really succeeded in making a portrait of my brother who patiently posed for me. Apparently, I was so stunned by the end result that I got hooked and still go on experimenting with colours and trying to learn skills of the trade.